


No Vacancy

by crownsandbirds



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Future Fic, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Mention Of Suicide Attempt, Panic Attacks, Recovery, Somewhat, Trans boy!Oikawa, and he's married already, everyone else's in college, i'll probably add more people as i write, oikawa has panic disorder along with other issues, suga's a psychiatrist, to daichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-29
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:25:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9315365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crownsandbirds/pseuds/crownsandbirds
Summary: In between regular wednesday trips to the psychiatrist, x-files theme alarms, pink band-aids with flower patterns,  ridiculous hoodies in the summer, the occasional stop for a milkshake and memories, it’s suddenly Christmas, it's been a year, and Oikawa is still discovering the real definition of recovery.





	1. not today

**Author's Note:**

> (it's been years since i stopped writing fan fiction; i hope i haven't entirely lost my ability for doing so)
> 
> the idea for this came to mind after my first appointment at a psychiatrist (so the session and the information about the meds and the disorders should be decently realistic, since i mostly took them from my own experience), and also after i realized just how few realistic and accurate works were there about mental disorders. basically, i wrote this as a way to deal with the diagnosis of my own disorders and to try and resonate with other people who maybe feel the lack of representation like i do. it's a very personal work, which i care more about than i should say. hope you enjoy it.

 

"Why do you have a band-aid in your nose?"

It was a befitting question, the doctor figured, good enough to start the session with. The band-aid was pink, with tiny lilac flowers. It was in the brink of being ridiculous, decorating the bridge of the boy's nose, and highly endearing when combined with the boy's pretty face and delicate features. Sugawara tried not to laugh, and nearly failed; his slowly building fondness for his patient ended up showing itself in the corner of his lips lifting just a little. 

"Iwa-chan headbutted me. In the face."

"I'm assuming you mean Iwaizumi, right? Your best friend?"

Oikawa nodded eagerly, his features melting into a deeply loving smile when hearing the possessive pronoun well-placed before the other boy's name. It was considerably short-lived, though, not lasting more than two seconds, suddenly being replaced by the infuriatingly beautiful and entirely shallow plastic smirk Oikawa used for most of his social interactions.

"May I ask the reason behind the head-butt?"

"Iwa-chan gets angry when I have bursts of low self-esteem. It's his way of demonstrating that, in his opinion, it's all bullshit." he didn't mention that Iwa-chan's method was indeed highly effective most of the time. More effective than motivational quotes and all that stuff, anyway. "This time he was a bit more violent than usual, though." Oikawa stretched, letting his head tilt back, exposing his beautiful, long neck, in an unconscious seductive movement. Suga was expecting that; it was his patient's mind finding ways to distract the other person while trying to hide something. "He's a _ brute _ ."

The doctor hummed in a distracted agreement. Almost reached for his pen and notepad - there was so much he wanted to write down - but he'd noticed a while ago that taking notes during sessions made Oikawa fidgety and uneasy. He leaned back in his chair, deciding for a straight approach to the matter. 

"What did you say? For him to be more violent than usual?" Suga made a point of quoting the exact same words the boy had used. Oikawa liked to know he was being paid attention to. Not the shallow attention that naturally came with his unfairly gorgeous figure, or the deeply unwelcome attention that arrived with the way his features and body (one could think; Suga, as a decent human being, would  _ never _ ) didn't match with the gender he identified with. The boy thrived for attention that brought along careful, delicate affection and someone who actually  _ listened  _ to what he had to say.

Oikawa frowned a little, his hand moved to the white orthopedic fabric around his knee, a finger tracing the uncovered skin right above. This was all very hard to notice behind his sunny, bright, completely fake smile, and Suga tried not to make it obvious that he had, indeed, noticed. "I just recently changed majors. I'll be starting Law next semester. So I told Iwa-chan, and then I made a joke concerning my...accident." his hands were now folded together, fingers intertwined.  _ His mind is either praying for rescue, or creating a wall _ , the textbook definition came quick and cold in Suga's head. The doctor said nothing. Oikawa took a small breath, quietly putting himself together. Or maybe it was because of the binder. Suga wondered for how many hours he'd had it on. "I'll admit it may have been somewhat tasteless. He got mad and headbutted me. Then he took this band-aid box out of his bag, helped me clean the blood and put the band-aid in my nose. Like I said, a  _ brute _ ." he added at the end, pouting.

The psychiatrist nodded. "Where will you be spending Christmas, Oikawa?"

"At Iwa-chan's. My parents will be away for the holidays, which was to be expected, and dropped me at his house. They did that last year too. Iwa-chan won't say it, but he likes it, because then I don't stray far from his sight." he sighed, a dramatic exhale of breath hiding relief and a thread of affection. "He's like those guard dogs." Oikawa thoughtfully growled as a demonstrative explanation. 

Suga decided it was time to put all cards on the table. He pulled out his notepad and quickly wrote a few phone numbers down. "Can we blame him, though?" he said, still writing, not looking up. By now, the session was coming to an end and he was deliberately trying to make Oikawa at least a bit uneasy. "After what happened last Christmas."

His patient didn't answer. He hadn't been expecting an answer anyway. He folded the paper neatly, took a deep breath and let his head fall, his forehead on the cold wooden desk. Too cold. Good enough for Oikawa and his hoodies, which he wore even in the summer, but Suga had to make a mental note to turn off the AC before Kenma's session.

"Will you take your meds, Oikawa?" Suga asked, head pillowed on his arms. 

The doctor waited for a snort followed by a snide remark, maybe with a thread of the sharp sarcasm that Oikawa could use very well if he so desired. The boy, though, merely put his feet on the chair and hugged his knees. He had small feet, Suga noticed. He looked so young. "I don't like them. They make me feel... things."

"You've only just started them. I warned you it would probably make your panic attacks worse for a while. And you have a medicine to help with the attacks. It won't last forever, it should start to get better after two or three weeks, and I know it must be awful… But you have to take them.  _ Please _ ." he lifted his head and met the other's brown eyes.  _ That band-aid looks very cute on your nose, but it'd look ghastly on your wrists _ , he added mentally. "It's almost Christmas, you know. I want to see you well." 

-

The person seemed to be making strong mental efforts to melt into the couch of the waiting room, while playing something in their phone. They kept their oddly-colored hair covering their face as much as it was possible to keep without getting completely in their sight, and so Iwaizumi had very little hope of actually seeing their features. 

He was curious; for nearly an year he'd walked, every wednesday at 4 pm, without failing, all the way from Oikawa's house to this place, and waited by himself for at least half an hour in the waiting room, but he'd never seen that person around. He was alone most of the time; sometimes the 6 pm patient, a tall boy with the worst bedhead Iwaizumi had ever seen in his life (he'd  _ seen _ Oikawa's bedhead, and he hadn't thought it could get any worse than that, but the 6 pm patient took it to a whole new level), arrived a bit earlier, and they chatted for a bit, but even then only sometimes. 

"Hey." Iwaizumi said, curiosity getting the best off him. The person raised their head, and he could get a clearer look at their face. They had interesting eyes; a mix of brown with a strong streak of gold, big and expressive, now displaying anxiety veiled by a thin, calculated disinterest. "You go there?" he asked, pointing with his thumb the anonymous glass door that led to Doctor Sugawara's office. They nodded, and looked away from him and back to their game. 

"I've never seen you around." he continued.

"Change of schedule." they answered at last, the voice hard to understand in the effort to keep it as low as possible. 

A silence draped itself over both of them. Iwaizumi considered putting on his earphones, but before he could do it, the person asked a very tiny but very clear question. "And you?"

"Waiting for my friend. I always come here with him." he remembered the band-aid on Oikawa's nose, and wondered if the doctor would ask anything about it. Well, it was all the same; Oikawa was good at many things, too many for it to be even fair, but he simply wasn't capable of playing the victim. It hadn't been nearly that bad anyway, and it'd been the only way of showing him that he was absolutely wrong about himself. It was a slow process. Iwaizumi sighed; it'd been a year, it was almost Christmas and everything was so  _ slow _ .

"It must get boring." they commented.

"Yeah, sometimes. But I'm used to it. I do it for him. A friend is a friend, right?" 

"Hm. Yeah, I guess." they mumbled, and there was a thread of resignation and pain in their answer.

Before Iwaizumi could answer, the glass door opened suddenly, and a body practically threw itself at him, settling on his lap. 

"Iwa- _ chan _ , I  _ missed _ you! Did you miss me?" Oikawa asked, putting his arms around Iwaizumi's neck. Doctor Sugawara was leaning on the doorframe, watching with a fond, almost nostalgic, expression in his face. Iwaizumi felt his face heat up. 

"I saw you less than forty minutes ago, Oikawa." he answered with a tone of irritation which was more for show than anything, really, mostly because of his habit of tirelessly contradicting Oikawa in all situations. He didn't try to push the other boy off his lap, since he knew from previous experiences and knowledge acquired over more than fourteen years that it would only result in more protesting whines, dramatic professions of unrequited love, accusations of treason and God knows what during the walk home. It was so much easier to just let him, honestly. 

"It's been  _ fifty-six _ minutes, okay?!" Oikawa cried indignantly, tightening his hold around his friend's neck. 

"No, I did not miss you. Please get off of me." Iwaizumi growled between his teeth. 

"No!" Oikawa said with a bright grin. 

"Get off."

"Won't do, your lap is far more comfy than the couch."

"Get. Off. Of me."

"Give me a kiss and I will." he said, turning his face to the side and offering his cheek. Iwaizumi huffed and leaned to kiss it, but Oikawa turned his face again at the last second and Iwaizumi ended up giving him a peck on the lips. 

Oikawa yelped in complete delight, and braced himself for the certainly explosive reaction that was sure to come. He thought about covering his face to protect it from the upcoming result. However, unexpectedly, Iwaizumi only laughed, a deep, sincere laughter, shaking his head. Oikawa blushed.

"Can we go now, your majesty?" Iwaizumi asked.

"Yes! Let's go home!" Oikawa jumped off of his legs, smiling widely and gathering his exams and receipts for the meds while saying a considerable amount of  _ good afternoon _ and _ have a nice day _ and  _ merry christmas _ to everyone in the waiting room, including a very bright and very loud  _ thanks for taking care of Iwa-chan! _ To the person with the odd hair and golden eyes, who, startled by the sudden attention, buried their face in their phone once more.

"Iwaizumi-san, can I have a word?" the doctor called quietly while Oikawa engaged himself in a last-minute chat with the receptionist, a tall blonde boy with silver earrings and unfairly long lashes.

Suga extended a folded piece of paper to Iwaizumi, who took it and put it away in his pocket, a puzzled look on his face.

"I wrote down my phone number, my husband's and our house's number." the doctor's eyes were calm and very serious. "Call me if anything happens. It doesn't matter what time is it, and I mean it. I also wrote an emergency contact; it's the number of a friend I have who works in the local hospital's ER. His name's Akaashi, just say Oikawa's my patient and that I gave you his number. He should be able to help if… something happens." he stole a glance at the boy, who was laughing along with the receptionist. "I also wrote down all the needed information about his meds and where it should be easier to buy them. I trust he'll take them, but just in case. I know he's stubborn." 

"Thank you, doctor. I mean it." Iwaizumi tried to convey just how grateful he was. "I'll do my best to take care of him."

"You already do. You're both lucky to have each other." Suga smiled. "Merry christmas to you two." 

-

"Iwa-chan."

"What?"

"What were you talking about with that person?"

Iwaizumi smirked. "Jealous, much?"

"I'm not jealous! Oh, my god, you're so annoying!" opposite to his protests, Oikawa continued to cling to Iwaizumi's arm like an especially anxious koala; if anything, he only tightened his hold. In normal days, Iwaizumi wouldn't allow such a demonstration of affection in public, just like he wouldn't have allowed the stolen kiss in the waiting room without some kind of reaction, but it was so very close to Christmas already, and it wasn't like he hated having Tooru around. 

"Why are you still talking to me then?"

"Rude, Iwa-chan!" Oikawa pulled away and folded his arms. He felt people looking at him, curious about his choice of wearing hoodies when it was so hot outside. He unfolded his arms, pulled his sleeves down and went back to clinging to Iwaizumi. "It was only a question! Why are you so mean to me?"

"We didn't talk much. All I know is that they go to Doctor Sugawara too." 

Oikawa pouted. "You're becoming friends with all the other patients. First it was the IED guy. Now Kenma."

"How do you even know their name?"

"I asked Ki-chan." Oikawa said, looking very proud of himself.

"Who the hell is Ki-chan?" Iwaizumi asked.

"The receptionist. You know, blonde, tall, eyelashes that should be illegal. He's very nice. He's a model, and he plays basketball and he's majoring in something really cool and science-y that I forgot the name of. He's working in the office only during holiday break."

"And  _ I'm _ the one who is becoming friends with everyone."

Oikawa made a vague and arrogant waving gesture. "It's  _ entirely _ different, Iwa-chan."

"Do elaborate."

"I love you, so no one can steal  _ me _ away from  _ you _ . But  _ you _ can be stolen away. So I have to watch out for potential thieves and destroy their intentions." he looked entirely serious, nodding to himself after finishing his speech. Iwaizumi fought the urge to hit him in the head, and was about to say how ridiculous that line of thought was when Oikawa suddenly gripped his arm tighter, biting at his own lip.

Iwaizumi knew what that meant; he moved his arm to encircle Oikawa's waist and made the boy put his own arm around his shoulder, in such a way Iwaizumi supported most of the other's weight. Not that it was an excessive weight. If anything, it was too light for Iwaizumi's liking.

"I won't even go through the trouble of proving to you how ridiculous your theory is. Now, hear me out. I'm in kind of a good mood, and I've got money. How about we grab a milkshake from that place you like? Then you can help me find some presents I still haven't bought." Iwaizumi suggested, trying to hide his rising worry.

They both knew what was hidden in that suggestion.  _ Let's find a place to sit down. You need to sit down before your knee gives out and you fall in the middle of the sidewalk like it happened last week.  _ Oikawa's palms still had faint scratches, reminiscing of his last fall. It'd been sudden, disastrous and entirely embarrassing, near the asphalt in one of the busiest streets in the city. The worst part had been having to thank and carefully send away every single one of the well-meaning people who'd rushed over to help, gasping and offering chairs and ambulances. Oikawa had buried his face in Iwaizumi's chest (he might as well do it, he'd thought, he was already being carried since he wouldn't be able to stand on his own anyway) and let one or two tears run down his face, already heated up from embarrassment and pure rage. 

"Presents, hm? Have you bought mine already?" was Oikawa's answer, the smile on his face a plastic ironic one, the weaker version of the one he used for his social interactions. Iwaizumi hated both with all his being, but he swallowed down his rage. 

"Your Christmas present this year will be me tolerating you for the entirety of the next year."

Oikawa pouted. Iwaizumi didn't miss the flash of discomfort in his eyes, and shifted so he could more fully support Oikawa's body. "Wasn't that last year's gift?'’

"You consume all my energy already, I can't be bothered to try and find something else."

" _Mean_ , Iwa-chan!"

Iwaizumi also didn't miss the hiss of pain when Oikawa sat down, nor the way he quickly pulled his sleeves down before lifting his straw to sip at his milkshake. 


	2. the right to bleed (to feel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is about those normal days. not so good days, not so bad days, days for remembering, days for forgetting, days for not being alone, boring days, uneventful days, kinda good days, comfortable days, days for just being.

_ I'm outside _

Suga's lips automatically curved into a smile as he leaned to read the text, pausing to grab his phone and answer with a simple  _ On my way _ .

After that, he shut everything down in his office much quicker than usual, saving his notes in carefully organized files, the chocolates he offered to his patients put again in the small refrigerator he kept under his desk and his papers and computer inside his leather bag. He carelessly draped his white coat over the back of his chair; usually he'd bring it home with himself, but it'd been a long day and he was about to have dinner with his husband after two weeks of mismatched schedules, and he really didn't feel like taking the uncomfortable piece of clothing with him inside the car. 

"Daichi-san is waiting outside." Kise announced cheerfully as Suga left his office.

"He texted me already, thank you, Kise. Could you lock everything up for me?"

"Sure. Good night, Sugacchi!"

Suga smiled and was reaching for the doorknob when he suddenly remembered something. "By the way, Kise, how's your friend doing?"

Kise propped his chin on his hand, chewing on his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Better. After you diagnosed him and we could actually convince him to accept he had a disorder and to take his meds, he seems to be slightly better? And now we actually know how to deal with him... More or less. Akashicchi is so proud and he hates depending on anything, but he's slowly accepting the treatment. I just hope he gets well soon. It's been, what, 6 years?"

Suga let out a relieved breath. Akashi Seijuro was one of his hardest cases, and to know he was evolving, even if only slightly, lifted a weight out of his chest. He would have something to toast to on the dinner later. "I'm glad he's doing better. Dissociative identity disorder is a specially hard mental issue on both the psychiatrist and the patient. He's very strong, though. Either way, I should have a free hour next week. It's been a month since I last saw him and I'd really like to check up on him."

"Great! I'll convince him to come."

"Thank you. Have a good night, Kise."

He was greeted by the brightest smile and a hand on the back of his neck pulling him forward for a light kiss on the lips when he entered the car and sat on the passenger seat. Daichi looked at least just as exhausted as him, his dark suit slightly crumpled, the skin right beneath his eyes tinted a shade of purple, but he kept grinning so widely Suga felt his heart clench simply from the amount of love that was flooding his body now. 

“I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning, Dai.”  _ I missed you too, _ he thought, and he knew, from the pleased expression on his husband’s face, that Daichi had caught that using his mysterious mind-reading skills that only seemed to work on him.

“Still missed you.”

Suga buried his face in his hands, trying and failing to hide his red cheeks. “Christ, Daichi, It’s been 13 years and you’re still just as sappy as you were on high school.”

“And you still love me just as much, so I’m at a win here.”

Suga thought about teasing, but it’d been two weeks and he was a weak man. “Indeed.” he said, dropping his hand next to Daichi’s and letting their fingers intertwine together over the gear, Daichi’s thumb moving to stroke Suga’s wedding ring.

“How was your last work day before Christmas?”

Suga sighed, tightened his hold around his husband's hand. “Not so good. One of my patients doesn’t want to take his meds, and Christmas is very tough on him. He has a friend who’s a great caretaker, and I think I managed to convince him to at least give it a try, but I’m worried."  

"You know, I actually kinda get it. It's hard when someone comes and says like 'hey, you know those things you've been feeling? Yeah, they're not actually normal and not everyone has them'. And just when you've started to get used to the idea, you get a receipt and a box of pills and you just feel so weak? Because you can't get a hold of yourself, you have to trust your mental sanity to a pill or a few drops of something. And it's such a wrong and self-deprecating feeling, but it can be very strong, specially when your state of mind is already so fragile."

"Hm." Suga reflected on that for a few seconds. "Yeah, I remember how you were so adamant on not taking anything. It really hurt me to see you getting worse, like it hurts now because my patient hasn't been getting so much better. Other than that, panic disorder is all about lack of brain balance, and the meds would make it so much easier on him."

"My situation was quite different from his, but I came around eventually, and I'm sure he will too. Also, if his caretaker is half as good as mine," Daichi took advantage of the red light to bring Suga's hands to his lips and kiss his knuckles, "he'll be fine."

Suga felt himself start blushing again. "Drive and buy me dinner before I combust from the amount of sappiness." 

"Whatever you say."

"Yes, whatever I say."

"Except when it comes to picking curtains because you have to admit, that red one would look awful in our living room, and I'm so glad I stopped you because, honestly, Suga-."

"Daichi, shut up and drive." he quickly bit back a smile as his husband laughed loudly. It wasn't half as effective as he'd expected, so he just laughed as well, the sounds melting together just as perfectly as they had on the first time, more than a decade ago. 

-

For all of his constant pouting and whining and sometimes too-loud voice, Oikawa was actually considerably fond of silences. He relished it when he could just be, when he could sit down in a comfortable place and hug his knees and be quiet, listening to his own slow breathing and just thinking. Sometimes, if he focused properly, he could feel his heartbeats all over his body. There'd been times when he'd needed the silence so badly he would pretend to sleep, just so he could be alone with his thoughts, the dull sound of the AC and his consciously rhythmic intakes and exhales of breath. 

Still,  _ this _ was giving him very literal chills.

Iwa-chan had dropped him off at his house so he could finish packing what he needed and then go to his friend's house after he was done. Now Oikawa was alone in the big, empty skeleton of his house, the sound of his steps cutting through the warm, uncomfortable air and echoing back after bumping in the walls covered by serious portraits and tasteful art pieces, and he regretted not having demanded for Iwa-chan to stay and wait for him. 

He considered the scenario. There wasn’t a single Christmas decoration to be seen, only a tiny, lonely Santa Claus on top of the beautiful black piano. It was almost depressing. Oikawa had vague childhood memories of majestic Christmas evenings, of spending the afternoon decorating the entire house with his mother, of trying to find the hidden presents with his big sister and stealing the cookies his father made straight out of the oven. He couldn’t remember exactly when that had stopped being a certainty, when it had become no more than an expectation, and had now petrified inside his mind in something just a bit weaker than a memory. 

Most of it was a bundle of sensations; the smell of apple-scented candles, of chocolate cookies, of his sister’s sweet perfume and the delicate scent of the red wine his father always picked carefully for the occasion; the soft but suffocating feeling of the white or golden or deep blood-red dresses that went down to his knees; the sting of the ornament forcefully pinned to his then very long hair, those beautiful and cold silver flowers his grandmother had given him and that he always found a way to get rid of. 

One of the few concrete memories he retained now was a dialogue between him and his mother, the first Christmas after his sister’s marriage and the first weekend after he’d been outed as transgender. It’d been an infuriatingly hot Christmas, the air heavy with moist and the sun burning everyone’s skin, and he'd only just arrived home after staying a few days at Iwa-chan's house, waiting for the storm after his outing to calm down at least a little. 

Oikawa had been outside, sitting by himself in the front porch, eyeing the green grass and the rusted swings and the blindingly blue sky, so lost in his thoughts he hadn't even heard the sound of his mother's high heels slowly approaching him. 

"What would you like for Christmas?" she'd asked, and maybe because he'd been so distracted or maybe for other reasons entirely, it'd taken a few seconds for him to recognize her voice. 

He could've asked for a lot of things. He could've asked for money to go away and live by himself in a place far away from all of them, he could've asked for her to use the right pronouns and his chosen name, he could've asked for her to stop looking at him like there was something fundamentally wrong with his very existence and simply leave him be. Instead, his mind was suddenly flooded with memories from a previous holiday which the city had been drenched in a heavy storm that had lasted for days, complete with lightnings and thunder, and every single day was filled with jumping in the mud along with Iwa-chan, and staying inside to watch The X-Files and Twin Peaks with his sister, the two of them bundled up together underneath many blankets, and going over to his friend's to bake chocolate cakes with him and his mother, the raindrops knocking uselessly at the window pane and serving as a background for all dialogues and quiet conversations and laughter.

"I'd like for it to rain." Oikawa had answered to his mother, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder and look at her. The sounds of her high heels as she walked away sounded distant, like his ears could not quite catch them.

Now here he was, years later, a couple of days before Christmas, his bag swung across his shoulder filled with clothes and hair products and books (no toothbrush because he had had one, sometimes even two for him at Iwa-chan's house ever since he could remember), one of his favorite hoodies tied around his waist, only a binder covering the upper part of his body, sweat drenching his forehead and running down his temples and the dip between his breasts. It was still so hot, even if the sun was about to go down. The heat from the day seemed to linger and seep through inside the late afternoon. 

The loud sound of a very familiar horn outside shoved him out of his thoughts. He rolled his eyes, murmuring a  _ fucking finally _ under his breath, his lower lip forming a petulant and irritating pout as he moved to open the front door.

The pink-haired Med major jumped out of his car, lifting his hand in a lazy salute. "'Sup."

"Took you long enough, Makki, I'm melting here." Oikawa motioned for him to get inside, not waiting even a second before pushing the big gift box with his foot towards Hanamaki, who raised an eyebrow.

"Is this the box?" 

"Yeah." Oikawa took his bag off his shoulder and shoved it at his friend. "Hold this for me, would you?"

Hanamaki huffed while the other boy pulled his hoodie over his head before taking the bag again. "Okay, I'm ready. And yeah, this is the box."

The Med major crouched down and lifted the box, frowning as he did so and staggering a bit under its weight. "Damn, it's really fucking heavy, could you lend a hand here?" he said with a bit of a strain in his voice.

"Nah, I can't put weight on my knee, sorry. Doctor's orders." Oikawa said cheerfully, double-checking the contents of his backpack and half-skipping behind his former teammate who struggled to get the box inside the car. 

"Bastard. Why am I even doing this?"

"Because you love me. And you love Iwa-chan. So, you know the plan, right?"

"I take it to my house and keep it until Christmas eve, and then bring it to his place. Then I'll call you when I get there and you'll give it to him."

Oikawa scratched the back of his head, a little embarrassed. "I'm actually kinda sorry for all the trouble, it's just, it'd be too suspicious if I went to his house with a huge ass gift box, and yeah." 

Hanamaki made a waving dismissing gesture. "Don't mention it."

Oikawa nodded distractedly before biting his lip in worry. "Do you think he'll like it?" he asked, unsure. Maybe the gift  _ was _ a bit too much. He always had the tendency to go overboard with everything, his fucked-up knee was right there as physical evidence, and he'd worked so hard on his particular gift and now he was worried Iwa-chan wouldn't even like it and he knew he was overthinking things but-

"He'll love it. Bet you ten dollars he'll cry when he sees the notes you put in every single one of them. You actually managed a really nice thing this time, Oikawa. I didn't think you had that in you." 

The brunette smiled, the feeling of unsureness flowing out a little from his system. 

"Okay, now drive me to Iwa-chan's!" he exclaimed, grabbing his bag and jumping on the passenger's seat. "Hurry, Makki!"

"You're a waste of gasoline."

-

If Iwaizumi focused solely on the bright smile, the loud, sing-song voice demanding popcorn and fluffy blankets, the huge amount of X-Files DVD's that always seemed to come out of nowhere, and the old leather bag around the shoulder, he could pretend Oikawa hadn't changed a thing since last Christmas. He could pretend everything was exactly the same, and that they would just enjoy their holidays with Iwaizumi's family before going out with their teammates and playing one or two sets until they would either get too sleepy or it would get too late and they would tiredly drag themselves back, somehow managing to set up a sleepover at somebody's house.

Then he looked properly at the whole situation, and his friend had ridiculously cute hoodies with which to hide long scars on his wrists, a white orthopedic fabric over his knee, ribs slightly showing through his pale skin, a plastic bag with meds to help with his panic attacks and dark circles under his piercing brown eyes, all of that beneath a too-heavy weight of specific memories from a specific night. 

Iwaizumi really hated Christmas sometimes.

Oikawa was snuggled up beside him, the two of them on the couch watching a movie Iwaizumi had given up on paying attention to half an hour ago. Rebel strands of wavy brown hair tickled his nose, what with the way Oikawa had put his head on the other's shoulder. The bright screen was reflected in the brunette's eyes, his mouth slightly open in something of an awe at whatever was happening in the movie, his lips greasy after eating the popcorn. Iwaizumi felt his friend's fingers tighten up the hold they had on his shirt, Oikawa moving closer, making him (both of them) more comfortable.

It was when Iwaizumi realized he was so goddamn lucky. People usually commented on how lucky Oikawa was for having someone to look after him in such a fierce, unrelenting way. Iwaizumi, thought, would gladly give up all of his free hours and holidays and breaks (and everything, really) just so he could spend every possible hour with his former captain and marvel at his existence. Because he had been so, so close to losing Oikawa and his whining and pouting and childishness and incapability of knowing the value of money and innate ability to be drawn to anything shiny and manipulative actions and the way he slept curled up on himself and his loving, true smile and his delighted 'Iwa-chan!' carrying around the room. 

And so he leaned back, took his friend's hand in his and decided that he loved this Oikawa just as much as he'd loved the one before that night, and that maybe now he could stop thinking so much about bloody, slippery wrists, a limp body, closed eyes with shiny eyelids, red drops everywhere on the bathroom tiles ( _ his _ bathroom tiles, oh, God, how many hours he'd spent frantically cleaning them later to erase the image from his mind), the strong scent of the local hospital, the black, crude stitches on Oikawa's porcelain skin, the empty stares. 

Now he could think about the warm body next to his and the fingers strongly wrapped around his own, the heartbeat he could feel if he listened for it, even if only faintly. There was a heartbeat, there was warmth, after so many months there were  _ smiles _ .

"Iwa-chan." 

"Hm?"

"I wanna buy a cat, name it Schrödinger and tell people it's a walking paradox."

"You're such a fucking nerd." 

Oikawa laughed softly, and Iwaizumi could feel it in his skin.

Yeah, he was pretty fucking lucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (not sorry about the amount of KnB references)  
> thanks for the kudos and the comments, they really cheered me up more than i could explain.


	3. a whole universe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "In physics, the string theory is a theoretical framework in which the point-like particles of particle physics are replaced by one-dimensional objects called strings. It describes how these strings propagate through space and interact with each other."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is kinda sad and not that great because i should be sleeping and i'm so tired and my back hurts and my battery is almost ending but i really really wanted to write this.  
> sorry for the wait, senior year is slowly destroying me.

It took Iwaizumi a very long time to fall asleep that night. 

It was the night just before Christmas; he would have to wake up early the next day, help his mother bake cookies and get dinner ready, put the gifts underneath the tree, set the table and fold the napkins in the format of Christmas trees, like his mother insisted on him doing every single year. Also, he'd have to prepare Oikawa's gift in the middle of doing everything else, with the additional difficulty of getting away from his absurdly clingy friend for at least ten minutes without him noticing anything was being hidden from him. He was already exhausted in anticipation, and yet he couldn't get himself together enough to even close his eyes for more than thirty seconds. 

He wished Oikawa was there in the bed next to him, so they could whisper silly stories and secrets to each other like they did when they were children. They didn't often sleep in the same bed now, especially after puberty, because Oikawa liked to sleep shirtless but he hated the idea of anyone seeing his breasts, so they only did it when dysphoria and anxiety took a break and let his friend cuddle up next to Iwaizumi and sleep without overthinking things. 

He felt cold, very cold, the thin hairs in his arms lifting in goosebumps. He wrapped his blankets tighter around himself and forced his eyes to close again; useless efforts, since he couldn't drive away the memory of peacefully sleeping while the person he loved the most in the world tried to commit suicide in the bathroom just down the hallway. Iwaizumi couldn't help but blame himself. Still after a whole year and a few therapy sessions and some medicines to help him sleep after two weeks of a head-wrecking unmerciful insomnia, the guilt pulsed quietly underneath all of his thoughts. Maybe if he had looked closer. Maybe if they'd watched that movie until the end and fallen asleep together on the couch and slept in until morning instead of saying their goodnights and leaving for their own rooms. Maybe if he'd insisted on sleeping with Oikawa. Maybe if he'd looked properly through Oikawa’s bags while he'd been searching for one of his own (stolen) shirts. Maybe if he had allowed more displays of affection, maybe if he had stolen more kisses, maybe if he'd said  _ I love you, please don't go _ before going to sleep instead of whispering it in the middle of uncontrollable tears beside a hospital bed, holding a cold hand between his own. 

When Iwaizumi gave up on sleeping, it was two in the morning. He grabbed the book he was reading, his favourite blue pen and his journal in which he'd been making calculations to see if he'd be able to afford the next semester at uni and was moving to the kitchen when he decided to at the very least check up on his friend, make sure he was asleep. 

His hand was moving to the doorknob when the door opened up suddenly and Oikawa fell on his arms, sobbing heavily, tears drenching Iwaizumi's bare shoulder.

-

Oikawa didn't even try to sleep. He knew he wouldn't be able to. He decided he would simply stay awake until morning, have a huge cup of coffee and help as much as possible on the preparations before napping for at least an hour before Christmas dinner. He could catch up on sleep later. 

It was one-thirty in the morning, his computer was heating up on his bare thighs, the music in his earphones unhealthily loud as he browsed and wrote and watched animes and stupid videos and did just about everything he could so he wouldn't think about the incredibly heavy memories gnawing at the corners of his mind, trying their hardest to draw blood like they'd actually done a year ago. 

When he thought back on it the next day, he decided his mistake had been looking at his high school pictures. 

There was an ungodly amount of them. His friends usually said one of their strongest memories from their senior year was Oikawa skipping around, brandishing his phone like a weapon, photographing just about everything he saw in front of him. There were pictures of his first day, of his classroom, his teachers (taken sneakily while he tried not to get caught), blurry ones of him and Makki looking absurdly bored in class, about ten pictures of an asleep Mattsun drooling on his desk, one of their table at lunch, his friends looking absolutely disgusted with the school's food, an uncountable number of selfies with Iwa-chan, which varied from ridiculous to endearing, some of them with his former ace reaching out to hit him, some of them with Iwaizumi's lips hinting at a smile, one or two taken by someone else of them fist-bumping or hugging after a successful game, some of them with the two friends laughing so hard there were tiny tears glittering at the corners of their eyes, and one from the day Oikawa had bought his first binder at their second year, him smiling widely at the bathroom mirror and Iwa-chan kissing his cheek.

And then, of course there were nearly a hundred of their volleyball club. The court, their old team, their coach. The day when the new uniforms had arrived. The day Kindaichi had taken a ball to his face because he’d been too sleepy from staying up to study for finals, Kunimi looking disappointed at the entirety of human race in the corner of the photo. The day Oikawa had received the captaincy, a paper crown on his head because Makki and Mattsun “couldn’t possibly lose the opportunity”. There were at least five of Kyouken-chan with the Snapchat dog filter, his permanent scowl looking entirely out of place with the cute cartoon ears, one of him losing to Iwa-chan at arm-wrestling and another one of him blushing terribly while Yahaba kissed him on the cheek the day they started dating. There was one of three-quarters of the third years in cheerleader poses, Watari and Iwa-chan looking at them with heavy judging stares. A selfie taken by Makki and Mattsun, matching lazy ironic smiles while Oikawa had volleyballs thrown at his head by Iwa-chan in the background.

By then, his eyes were already filled with tears, his hand furiously scratching at the skin just above his bad knee, a dull phantom pain on his wrists. Then, against his best judgment, he clicked on a video and squinted his eyes to watch it, unable to look for his glasses. 

It had no more than two minutes. In it, Oikawa was preparing to hit a jump serve at practice, the other third years watching him nearby. He saw himself putting the ball to his forehead, taking a deep breath with eyes closed, before launching it up, running and jumping, his form perfect as the ball was hit with such strength a voice from behind the camera whispered "oh my God, that was practically a spike" while his friends mimicked the  _ ole! _ The crowd never failed to chant at official games when the captain served. 

_ That was actually really fucking great, Shittykawa. _ Iwaizumi said in the video, coming up to slap him on the back. 

_ Now that we filmed it, you'll have something to watch when you're forty and ugly and miserable and can't pick up a volleyball to save your life.  _ Makki commented smugly, wrapping his arm around Oikawa's shoulders. 

_ Oh, please, this fucker will be captain of the national team by the time he's twenty and something.  _ Mattsun said while messing up Oikawa's hair.  _ If they can find in themselves the unrelenting patience to stand him, that is. _

_ I know I'm awesome, sweethearts, no need to be so jealous.  _ Oikawa said to them, throwing himself at Iwa-chan's back, wrapping his arms around his torso, a wide smile on his face.

_ And that's why you can never be nice to him.  _ Makki sighed before blocking the camera with his hand.

The video went black. The fabric around his bad knee seemed to itch so badly Oikawa wanted to rip it off and scratch at his skin until blood came out. He could feel it coming; his heart was pounding on his ears, his palms cold and sweaty, his vision spinning a little. He slammed his computer shut and hugged his knees, closing his eyes and trying to calm himself down despite knowing it'd be useless. Everything came to mind at once: the desire to grab a knife and cut off his breasts, the memories from last Christmas and seeing Iwa-chan's desperate face before passing out, finding out his friend had developed insomnia after finding him bleeding to death in his bathroom, the doctor's sad voice announcing Oikawa had successfully destroyed his knee and should avoid playing altogether, Suga describing with pretty words what was wrong in his brain and asking him to submit his mental health to a bundle of pills and bitter drops of medicine, his mother's disgusted face after he was outed, his old team visiting him in the hospital with worried expressions and teary eyes, having to drop out of the college team he was just getting attached to, the constant misgendering and the occasional hate, the deep feeling of utter uselessness and not knowing at all what the hell he was doing with his life. 

His chest hurt and his head was screaming at him like a tiny thief had tried to break into the glass of his unconscious and now the alarms were blaring so loudly he couldn't bear it. He was probably dying, tears blurring his view as he struggled to reach the door because no matter what, he'd promised Iwa-chan he'd never get that bad again and hide it from him, and he wasn't about to break another promise, he'd promised he'd get better and he'd already broken that one and maybe now he was actually dying-

The cold sweat made his hand slip from the metal doorknob two times. When he managed to open it, his legs gave out, he fell into Iwa-chan's arms, and started crying everything out of his mind. 

-

Iwaizumi was completely desperate, but his hands were gentle and his arms were careful as he lifted Oikawa up and put him down carefully on the bed of the guest room he was staying in. Before his friend could think of physically reaching out for him like he always did when he had panic attacks and Iwaizumi was around, he walked around the room, searching for the little box with the black label he'd bought with Oikawa that afternoon. He came back quickly, a tiny white pill in his palm, and sat in front of his friend, doing everything in his power not to wrap him in his arms like his instinct told him to.

"W-what's that?" Oikawa stuttered when he saw the medicine in Iwaizumi's hand.

"A medicine. You only have to take one pill. It'll make the attack stop."

Oikawa shook his head weakly, burying his face in his trembling hands. "I don't wanna take it. Please, don't make me take it."

Iwaizumi's heart broke into a million pieces. He could almost see them falling to the ground as he saw his friend trembling and weeping in front of him. He took a deep breath and tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. "Tooru, listen to me. You're having a panic attack. This will make it go away in seven minutes. It's just a pill." Oikawa just kept sobbing loudly in his hands, tears slipping through his long, pale fingers and tapping on the ground like occasional raindrops. Iwaizumi sighed, reached hesitating fingers to touch him lightly on the inside of his wrists, hoping that the intimate touch would help him focus and diminish the feeling of dissociation. He let out a sigh of relief when the other didn't flinch away from him. "Don't you trust me?"

It was unfair to play the trust card, but Iwaizumi was way past caring about ethics. After about thirty seconds, Oikawa lifted his head. He nodded, his beautiful and usually so sharp brown eyes now watery and glassy, like there was a fogged mirror covering them. 

"You have to put it under your tongue. I can put it for you or you can do it yourself." when Oikawa made no move to take it, Iwaizumi moved closer and lightly  put a hand on his face, stroking his lips with his thumb to coax him to open them. "Open your mouth...yes, good." tears kept streaming down Oikawa's face as Iwaizumi carefully put the medicine under his tongue. After the pill was in its place, Oikawa lunged forward and grabbed at Iwaizumi's biceps before hugging him so tightly the other boy wondered if it didn't hurt his bare breasts. "You're okay, Tooru. I'm here, I've got you. I won't let anything happen to you. You're okay."

"Iwa-chan, I feel like I'm dying." he said, the words muffled by Iwaizumi's shoulder, coming out in between sobs.

Iwaizumi wanted to take his hand and place it on his chest so Oikawa would be able to properly feel his heartbeat, but he didn't have the courage needed to actually push him away when he was clinging to him like he was the last thing keeping him from slipping away from reality. He stroked Oikawa's hair, which was slightly damp from sweat and curling on his nape. "You can feel my heart like this, right?"

Oikawa nodded, still not letting go.

"Focus on it. Breathe with me. Your heart is beating against mine, I can feel it. You're not dying, your heart is beating, you're breathing, it's just you and me. You're doing great, you're so strong, Tooru, so strong. You're okay."

-

Christmas morning arrived as softly as a dream. Oikawa woke up first, Iwaizumi's arms strongly wrapped around him as a warm breath touched his neck in a soothing rhythm. There was an awful taste on his mouth and the strongest headache he'd ever felt banging on his head. He carefully freed himself from Iwa-chan's grasp and moved back a little, propping himself up on one elbow so he could properly watch his friend's face as he slept, ignoring all memories from the previous night in detriment of enjoying waking up next to Iwa-chan and not feeling the desperate need to cover himself right after. 

He'd missed this, feeling Iwa-chan's feet touching his ankles, feeling the warmth of a body behind his own and strong arms holding his waist tightly, being able to see the other's face up so close and so vulnerable and open first thing in the morning. He'd fallen in love with his friend as easily as he'd predicted, and his heart had embraced it so completely and strongly he hadn't suffered a single second after realizing his feelings, even before knowing they were reciprocated, even after Iwa-chan had refused to date him despite feeling the same. He remembered their first kiss, their first shared Christmas, their distracted and sweet marriage plans when they were too tired to pretend they didn't think about it.

Iwaizumi woke up a minute later, and immediately pulled Oikawa to him again, this time facing him with soft, caring eyes.

"Good morning." Oikawa said, trying not to grin too widely.

"'Morning. How are you feeling?" Iwa-chan's voice was deep and husky, his hair sticking up more than usual and Oikawa found himself falling in love all over again.

"Better. Much better." Oikawa answered honestly, and Iwa-chan smiled. 

"I'm glad."

And after that they fell into a comfortable, sleepy silence, both of them with eyes closed, and Oikawa assumed Iwaizumi had fallen back asleep, but his own mind was already traveling a mile per second.

"What will it take for you to date me?" he murmured, more to himself than anything, but Iwaizumi opened his eyes and his forehead wrinkled in a frown.

"What d'you mean?" he asked, speech still slurred by the too early hours.

Oikawa felt calm, calmer than he'd ever felt in his life. "We've known each other our whole lives. We kiss and we go out and everyone says we should actually be married by now. You're about the only one who can calm me down in a panic attack, and the only person I feel comfortable not hiding my body with. I asked you to date me back on senior year and you said no, and I thought it was because you didn't love me like that, but you said you do. So, for god's sake, what will it take for you to date me?"

Iwaizumi seemed to think for a while before rubbing his eyes. "Do you still want to?"

"Yes." it came out clear and strong, and Iwaizumi nodded and gave him a peck on the lips.

"Then now we're dating. Now, sleep, or we'll spend the rest of the day like sleep-deprived zombies." 

"What was wrong with dating me back in senior year?" Oikawa pressed on, not trying to hide his sudden happiness as he clinged to Iwaizumi more tightly than before.

"Your parents." the other said after a big yawn. "You weren't out to anyone yet and I didn't want to make things worse."

Oikawa snorted. "Well, I was outed not long after that and everything went to hell anyway so you might've well just accepted." 

"Hm. You're right. Well, we're dating now, so just shut up and let me sleep and then I can properly spoil you later." Iwaizumi said as he pulled his now-boyfriend to his chest, his chin on the other's soft brown hair.

"Hey, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa called softly a few seconds later.

"Hm?"

"I love you."  _ Thank you for last night. Thank you for last Christmas. Thank you. _

"Love you too, Tooru. Merry Christmas."

"Yeah." Oikawa hid his smile on Iwaizumi's skin. "Merry Christmas." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that happy ending wasn't planned, but i hope it doesn't look that bad. i think there's one more chapter left, then we get to see Christmas gifts and a healthy amount of happy tears and cookies.


	4. sparkle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A star is born when atoms of light elements are squeezed under enough pressure for their nuclei to undergo fusion."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took me so long, the planning almost killed me and i wanted the chapter to be as perfect as possible. add to that the fact that now i have saturday morning and afternoon classes and sunday afternoon classes and everything was chaos. anyway, it's here!

"Iwa-chan, can I put a red heart emoji on your contact name on my phone?" 

They were now somewhat awake, Oikawa's head still tiredly tilting a bit to the side as he tried not to fall asleep, sat up on the kitchen counter, sipping at a very large cup of coffee and absently kicking his legs as he browsed on his phone. He seemed very focused on his current affair: trying to decide what would be the perfect way to let everyone and their dog know that the two childhood friends were now dating. The ceiling fan was turned on at maximum speed, because the sun simply wouldn't give anyone a break, and apparently not even on Christmas. Iwaizumi couldn't notice, but Oikawa was not paying nearly as much attention to his social media as he was to the kind of sweaty and shirtless torso his boyfriend was displaying so early in the morning.

_ Boyfriend.  _ Oikawa considered the word, let it weigh down on his tongue. It was heavy and comforting, with a strong presence, impossible not to notice, owner of a very peculiar taste. Not as beautiful and fluid and promising as  _ fianceé  _ or as steadily calm and loving and forever as  _ husband _ , but he was in no hurry. He liked beginnings, and as he sat there, the cool air from the ceiling fan blowing at his brown hair waves, the mug warming up his hands and his favorite person walking around busy with making preparations for the night, he decided that was probably the best beginning he'd had on his life so far. 

"No." Iwaizumi answered simply while he placed the cookies and sweets on impressively neat and considerably creative arrangements on the pretty porcelain plates his mother only ever took out on Christmas and New Year's.

"Aw, why not?" Oikawa whined, and Iwaizumi had his back to him but he could  _ hear _ the pouting in the other's voice. 

"It's gross and heterosexual."

"Hm." Oikawa considered this answer. "You may have a point. Still, what should I add? It has to be something  _ special. _ "

Iwaizumi sighed and wiped his hands covered in flour and sugar on his pants before walking over to where his boyfriend was. He casually put his chin on the other's shoulder, wrapping an arm around his waist. "What do you have on it?"

Oikawa tilted the phone so he would be able to see it. The screen displayed their messages, full of emojis and exclamation points and laughter from Oikawa and monosyllabic answers from Iwaizumi, a picture of them both with Makki and Mattsun, the four of them smiling to the camera with shiny tears in their eyes on graduation day as background. On top, it read  _ Iwa-chan  _ _ ☆*:.｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆ _ .

"That is the most ridiculous emoji I've ever seen in my life. Where did you even find it?" Iwaizumi frowned at the bright screen, looking at the contact name as if it was a particularly mean-looking and strange animal and he had no idea how to behave in front of it. "I'm feeling slightly offended right now, to be honest." 

Oikawa gasped as if he himself had been insulted. "Why would you be offended?! It's the sweetest friendship emoji I could find. It's so adorable. Look. There's stars." 

"It's fucking awful." Iwaizumi said firmly, not commenting on how absurdly cute Oikawa looked when he felt that strongly about some roughly insignificant thing. "But if you like it so much, why would you want to change it?" 

"Oh, my God, Iwa-chan, you're so difficult." said the brunette, huffing. "It's a  _ friendship _ emoji. I want something  _ boyfriend- _ like. You're so unromantic." 

Iwaizumi sighed again. He had the feeling he would be sighing a lot from now on. "You should just put Hajime instead of Iwa-chan. You and my mom are the only ones who I feel comfortable with calling me that anyway. I actually like it when you use my first name. Feels intimate. That's boyfriend-like enough for me." 

Oikawa stared at him with the brightest eyes, the sunlight that came in from the big windows reflecting on them and making the chocolate brown color glint and shine in so many colors, in an entirely novel shade Iwaizumi couldn't remember ever seeing before in those past fourteen years. 

He felt himself blush, but found he was unable to look away. "What are you staring at, dumbass?" 

He was pulled into a tight hug and confusedly listened to Oikawa muffling a screech of delight against his bare shoulder. "Iwa-chaaaan! Don't just d-drop these g-gorgeous romantic speeches on me without war-warn-worn-, dammit, I hate this-"

Iwaizumi chuckled, ran his fingers through wavy, soft hair. "Warning?"

Oikawa nodded, still not letting go of his hold on his boyfriend's body. One of the things that had started to become more recurrent throughout the year was Oikawa losing his fluidity of speech when he got too excited or too tired or too anxious, which resulted on him stuttering and struggling with syllables and letters before managing to say a specific word, usually the last one on the phrase. Frequently he couldn't manage to say the word at all, and he just cursed and gave up and waited for Iwaizumi to complete what he'd been trying to say. Iwaizumi had never gotten anything wrong so far.

"I think you should sleep a bit more. I'll wake you up when mom arrives so we can all have lunch." he offered, running his hands on the hem of Oikawa's shirt - one of his own shirts, actually, that was large enough for Oikawa to use it comfortably without having to wear a binder, and leaving them both more than a bit secretly pleased as well.

"But I want to spend time with you." Oikawa said, before looking down and biting his lip in worry. "And also there's my meds..."

"I  _ will _ wake you up before lunch. You'll take your meds properly, I promise. Also, I'll be here when you wake up. We have plenty of time to spend together."

-

Kenma woke up with their heart struggling to beat and punch its way out of their chest and somewhat trembling hands. It was barely 7 in the morning, the whole house smelled strongly of apple and cinnamon from the candles their mother liked to put everywhere on Christmas time, including the bathroom and Kenma's bedroom, they could hear faint chatter and laughter from outside the locked door. They wrapped themself tighter on the blankets and buried their head on the pillows, hoping that when they lifted his head everyone would have vanished from the house. 

That unfortunately did not happen. Kenma could feel the anxiety attack already firmly planting itself inside his mind and promising not to let them be until the end of the day. They really fucking hated Christmas.

Not the idea behind it. It was all very beautiful and nice, everyone smiling a bit more and sometimes making actual efforts to buy nice gifts and plan sweet surprises and  _ merry Christmas  _ wishes could be heard everywhere along with Frank Sinatra calmly singing something about snow and letting it be. The thing was, Kenma had never seen snow in their life, and it was very hard to smile a bit more and be pleasant when they had to spend the entire day around relatives who kept saying the wrong pronouns, asking about their ex-boyfriend and whispering about how they had to take meds now and making incredibly rude questions about their hair. Not to mention the hugs. The suffocating, seemingly unending hugs, being pulled against a oddly-smelling person who, for the life of them, they couldn't remember ever meeting before, and having to feel their entire body, and being squished and kissed and offered food. It was all the very embodiment of hell, and they just hoped it would be over as soon as possible. 

With an annoyed twist to their lips, they let the pill dissolve against their tongue. They figured it would be better to prevent an anxiety attack, so to avoid a breakdown like the one that happened last Christmas when three people had come to talk to them at the same time and they'd simply not been able to take anything anymore and buried their face in their hands and started to cry. It was all very awkward and embarrassing and ridiculous and their mother ushered them to their room until they calmed down. They didn't, and Kuroo was called over to take them away from there and to a safer place. The two of them ended up laying down on the grass on Kuroo's house and spending the rest of the night there, alone, holding hands and whispering stupid, stupid things about being in love and plans.

After getting dressed, Kenma hushed over to his bed again, burying themself in a neatly-built blanket cocoon. They wondered briefly about Kuroo as they shifted to make themself more comfortable, mind busy with figuring out the perfect arrangement of pillows. They wondered if Kuroo was hanging around with his stupid Christmas sweaters, posting a thousand selfies on Snapchat with things like  _ hohohomosexuals  _ and  _ Santa's favorite hoe _ written on them, sending an absurd amount of texts to Bokuto and Oikawa. They wondered if he already had anyone else to pull under the unholy amount of mistletoes he put up on his house and whisper  _ Christmas tradition, just indulge me for a bit, will you? _ Before peppering them all over the face with kisses that tasted faintly of peppermint. 

A sudden knock of the door made Kenma grab tightly at the blankets before saying "Come in."

Their mother entered, wearing a brightly-colored apron, a worried expression on her face. "There's someone on the door for you. Everyone is in the kitchen, so you can go through the living room if you're not ready to socialize just yet..."

Despite themself, Kenma smiled at their mother's attempt to make them as comfortable as possible. "Thanks, mom."

They did went through the living room, though. 'Not ready to socialize just yet' was a major understatement.

The door was opened to reveal an unfairly tall and beautiful man wearing a sweater with a deer covered in rainbows, the usual physics-defying bedhead, an apologetic attempt at a smile and a black, old hoodie neatly folded and clasped tightly in his hands.

"Hi, Kenma." he said, awkwardly waving a hand. "Um, merry Christmas?

Kenma raised an eyebrow, waited for him to continue.

He scratched the back of his head and laughed weakly before extending the hoodie to the other person. "Um, so… You left this. At my house. A while ago. Sorry for not returning it earlier, I just… Yeah, anyway, there you go. Sorry?"

Kenma took a deep sigh, went down the steps leading to the front door and crossed their arms, staring up at their mess of an ex-boyfriend. "Kuro, you're so stupid."

Kuroo seemed actually confused by this, which made Kenma stare at him even harder. "What? Why?"

Suddenly the words were pouring out, the speech they had carefully and patiently put together after the breakup, all of it created thinking of the moment they would finally be able to slap Kuroo's face with the truth and make him stop being so apologetic about the two of them. "I wanted to be with you. You wanted to be with me. You were already getting treatment, and I was as well. You said you were afraid of hurting me, but you never did - you never even came close. Why are you so damn afraid? We could've worked it out, like we did so many fucking times before. Do you think I give a shit if you have IED? So what? I have social phobia. Big fucking deal. It's nothing but pretty words. It didn't make a fucking difference to me then, like it doesn't make a fucking difference now. Jesus, you're so stupid it pisses me off."

"Yeah, well, sorry?" Kuroo said, smiling despite everything, clinging to the hoodie even more tightly.

"You should be." Kenma sighed, flicking their hair to the side. "C'mon, just get inside already." they said, pulling on Kuroo's wrist and leading him inside the house.

-

"Hey, wake up."

Oikawa could just barely make out Iwaizumi's features in front of his blurred sight. It was a pretty good sight to wake up to, even if it was low quality. He wished he could wake up a little more so he could move, put on his glasses and stare properly at his boyfriend. "Hmmm, are we going to eat already?"

"No, mom hasn't arrived yet. I'm sorry, it's just that I have something very great to tell you." Iwaizumi apparently simply couldn't hide how big his smile was, and it was so beautiful and shining and  _ real  _ that Oikawa sat up immediately and couldn't resist taking the other's smaller hands on his own.

"Well then, tell me!" he said excitedly, stifling a yawn, his voice still a bit hoarse from sleep.

"Okay, so I made a few calculations and estimates while you were asleep and basically I have enough money to afford my next semester at uni. My new job pays a lot better than the last one and I got some scholarships and I won't have to save so much money like I did last semester and I just." Iwaizumi laughed helplessly, like he simply couldn't believe in how happy he was, like he was afraid it was an illusion or a dream but even then wasn't able to diminish his feelings. "I'm so fucking happy. I'm sorry for waking you up, I just really needed to tell this to someone."

Oikawa surged forward and hugged him so tightly, their bodies easily melting into each other, forms fitting perfectly. For the first time, the brush of Oikawa's breasts against another person's chest felt comfortable and right and sweet, and he wasn't even wearing a binder (Iwaizumi, Makki and Mattsun were very, very adamant about him not wearing a binder to sleep, and after a few incredibly painful experiences, he was more than eager to comply), just a loose shirt that smelt of Iwa-chan's shaving cream, but he still felt good. Like he'd just arrived home after a long and hard plane trip. He could feel Iwaizumi's laughter against his shoulder, and he couldn't help but laugh too, the room filling with a pure, untouchable happiness. 

"We'll graduate together and then we'll get jobs and live together and I want a marriage by the beach and-"

The plans were shared in whispers on the guest room's bed, mixed with a tiny amount of bickering, a lot of sappy jokes and stolen touches and kisses to shut the other up until Iwaizumi's mother arrived and they all went to have lunch together, toasting with wine glasses to  _ the future _ .

-

"Why is the X-files theme coming out of your ass?"

"Oh, it's my phone. It's the alarm I set up to remind me to take my meds. Look!"

The device kept vibrating with the music, on the screen a label reading  _ (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ* take your meds! _

Iwaizumi snorted at the stupid, flowery emoji, but reached for the plastic bag nonetheless, completely unable to keep a fond, proud smile from spreading over his lips. "Well, I guess we can't simply ignore the X-files theme." 

-

The phone vibrated insistently on the bedside table. Suga quickly grabbed it, not wanting to wake Daichi up and afraid it would be one of his patients with an emergency. When he read the name on the screen, though, he stared at the letters for a long moment, the phone shaking uselessly on his long fingers, distaste painting his features like he felt incredibly offended at having to see those specific letters forming that specific word on Christmas morning.

After the caller finally gave up and Suga moved to lie down on the bed again, he was surprised by Daichi sleepily rubbing at his eyes, a serious and loving expression on his face.

"Stupid mind-reader." Suga mumbled, irritated, but couldn't hide his smile at the peck on his lips. 

"Merry Christmas, Koushi." Daichi said, voice clear despite him having just woken up. Suga's heart fluttered like he was again a young highschooler head-over-heels for the captain of his volleyball team.

"Merry Christmas, Daichi."

-

Suga was finishing his cooking when Daichi, in the middle of getting pots and plates from the upper cabinets, sighed and put everything down on the counter, leaning on it and crossing his arms before staring directly in Suga's eyes. 

"You'll have to forgive her someday, you know." he said, firmly, and didn't back down even when his husband's face contorted in something that could only be described as an old, well-nurtured and never-wavering anger.

"No, actually I don't." spoons and knives were dropped sharply on the counter as Suga's voice turned cold and bitter, like his throat was biting and slashing at every single word before letting it out. "She fucking kicked me out, Daichi. She slammed the door in my face and left me in the street without a penny. She called me a fag and a freak and said the blood and pain she'd felt at my birth were now her biggest regret. And then she kicked me out. I barely had time to grab my clothes and my favorite books and my notebook with all of my writings before I was thrown out of the house. It took three years for me to find a way to talk to my siblings again. If it hadn't been for you and the team, I'd have been homeless. I don't even know how I got into college, to be honest. And then she comes back after  _ 10 fucking years  _ and sees how I'm so much more successful than she'll ever be and  _ then _ she says she's sorry. I don't  _ have _ to forgive her. And I'm really not fucking about to."

They stared at each other, neither one saying anything, the tension in the room so thick you could almost taste it, until Daichi's wedding ring caught the light from the tiny but pretty chandelier they'd picked together a month after the marriage and Suga's eyes were filled with hot tears. Daichi opened his arms and Suga ran to him, burying his face in his expensive shirt and staining it with his crying.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you." he was sobbing now, Daichi soothing him and making slow circles on his back with his thumb. "I'm really sorry. Do you forgive me for yelling at you on Christmas? And for getting your shirt wet?"

Daichi shifted a bit so he could press a kiss to Suga's silver, soft hair that smelled of vanilla shampoo. "Of course I do. I just don't want you to save so much anger inside of you."

Suga took a shaky breath, clinging to Daichi's shirt more tightly. "I really missed her in the beginning, you know. Christmas was always the best in our house. She made these absurdly delicious meals and she always chose the most perfect gifts for all of us and… I loved Christmas. I loved her. She was my mother. I used to miss her so much, it physically hurt." he leaned against his husband, let himself be held. "I just want to stay here and talk and hear you being sappy all night long and eat this dinner and have you for myself for a whole weekend. Maybe when I'm older and more mature I'll have the strength to forgive her. For now, I'm weak and too damn resentful. Let me have this." he said, gesturing to the decorated living room, to the huge Christmas tree, to the messy kitchen, to the fluffy puppy they'd adopted from an animal shelter two months before and was now lightly snoring on the carpet, to the smudge of chocolate on the tip of Daichi's nose from his usual cookie-thievery. "For now, let me have this." 

-

"Okay, so." Oikawa dropped a huge and apparently too heavy gift box on the floor and huffed, wiping out a drop of sweat from his forehead. Iwaizumi raised an eyebrow and said nothing, pretending not to notice the sound of Hanamaki's car driving away. "Damn, it's fucking hot out there."

Hajime's mom had already gone to sleep and his friends and relatives would already be home by now. It was past one in the morning, the plates and glasses and cutlery were piled up on the sink waiting for tomorrow when someone would hopefully be willing to wash them, the house mostly dark except for the kitchen, Iwaizumi's ears still ringing from the loud chatter and laughter and the expected but not appreciated political discussion. Everything was quiet, the light was low and Oikawa looked open and nervous and beautiful in his X-files hoodie, the hair he had carefully combed before dinner now messy beyond help after being ruffled by nearly ten college kids and a few grownups. 

"Anyway. Um, so, you know how everyone was expecting me to leave town for college but then... stuff happened and I ended up staying here? Yeah, so, since I didn't leave and I'm still living at my parents', that means most of the college money they saved ended up being unnecessary. And then they gave me more money for Christmas since they never know what to buy me, and I already bought the Law books I'll need and sold the old ones. Long story short, I had cash to spare, and so I remembered that time Iwa-chan mentioned how he never managed to buy his Med books because, on top of college tuition and shit, they were so goddamn expensive. I asked Makki and he went with me and helped me find all the books you should need for next semester and some others the teachers recommended for deeper studies, and, yeah. Here they are. Also I bought that nice bullet journal you like. Actually two of them, because you study too much. Merry Christmas." 

Iwaizumi thought about having actual books. About having to buy a shelf in which he would arrange them. About being able to actually write on them and highlighting passages and making stupid doodles during boring classes. About not having to ask Makki for him to lend some of his books so he could study for finals. Then he looked at his boyfriend's face, expectant and unsure and so gorgeous. And then he cried. 

-

After long, loving, deep kisses were traded, tears were shared and the last remains of the cookies were dealt with, Iwaizumi took a deep breath and fished a key out of his pocket, a flying saucer keychain and a tiny volleyball hanging from its ring. 

"Merry Christmas." he said simply, and watched with pleasure Oikawa's confused tilt of his head. The brunette brought the key closer to his eyes, reading the brand name engraved on the metal, and recognized it almost immediately.

"This is the key for the guest room, I know because it has the same brand name as the door lock. Why are you giving me this, though?"

"Well, you know." Iwaizumi smirked. "You've always spent more time here than at your own house since kindergarten, half of your clothes and books are here, you have your own toothbrush on the hallway bathroom, our socks have been mixed in the drawer since the beginning of freshman year. You remember how all that was stopping you from moving over was your mother?" Oikawa was too dumbfounded to do anything but nod. "Well, it took a bit of convincing - a lot, actually - but we managed to change her mind. Basically, you can transfer all your things to the guest room now, because I'm inviting you to live here. That's not the entire gift, you should find there a stress cube, a new sports bra and some other tiny stuff, but yeah. That's it. Merry Christmas."

Oikawa had his mouth slightly agape, and didn't manage to say anything. He brought the small key to his face and touched it to his lips, not caring if it was gross, not caring if it was completely unsanitary. He remembered last Christmas, how he'd spent so many days at the hospital, his wrists stitched together with crude black lines, Iwaizumi coming to visit him every single day with deep circles under his eyes, his mother refusing to spend more than twenty minutes a day and forbidding his sister and nephew to visit, being completely alone in a hospital bed, reading compulsively the books piled up on his bedside table underneath a thin artificial and depressingly small Christmas tree.

"Iwa-chan. Hajime." his voice was surprisingly calm and soft. 

"Yes?"

"This will sound so stupid and so fucking sappy, but I feel like a star has just been born inside of me."

Iwaizumi reached across the table and grabbed his hand, caressing his knuckles. "I think they call that recovery."

"Do they?" Oikawa smiled, small and true and dripping with slowly-built happiness, and tears slowly leaked out of his eyes. "Then I guess I might be slowly recovering now."

-

_ He's good. He seems happy. Thanks for your help. _

Suga received the text just after answering with a heart emoji to Kise's delighted text of  _ Akashicchi said he'll be there next week !!! _

_ I'm glad, Iwaizumi-san _ , he typed back.  _ Merry Christmas to you two. See you next wednesday? _

_ We'll be there.  _ And then, a few minutes later.  _ Merry Christmas to all of us. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's over. i don't feel sad for letting it go after thinking and working as hard as i could in the middle of starting senior year and dealing with my disorders and a bunch of other stuff. this story came out exactly like i wanted it to be, with the far-more-than-occasional flaw, of course. still, i'm happy. thank you so much for your kudos and bookmarks and comments, every single one of them made a huge difference in the process of writing this. special thanks to Yourfaveisbi for the amazingly kind and thoughtful words. this was a good ride, and one that helped me path my way to my own acceptance and recovery. 
> 
> i have so many writing plans! i'm considering writing more about Kenma and Kuro's story since they got so little attention in this, i might also be considering something on KnB and Akashi obviously having DID, and i think a story involving genderfluid oikawa, trans boy!makki, iwaoi, matsuhana and prom should be arriving soon. 
> 
> thanks again for reading. it means so much more than i can explain. forgive typos, i'm so tired i'm almost falling asleep on my keyboard. i'll get to the typos and grammatical errors asap.
> 
> OBS: the title comes from the song Sparkle - RADWIMPS. (it's one of the most beautiful musical pieces i've ever heard, so go check it out!)
> 
> have a nice day and be kind to others.

**Author's Note:**

> english isn't my first language, so forgive mistakes. some stuff there is entirely self-indulgent and i'm not even sorry. comments are nice and would make me so happy since this work means a lot to me in so many ways, so leave them if you'd like. also, i live in brazil and i have no idea what is having a cold, snowy christmas, so they have a hot christmas like my own.


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